


Early in October

by cridecoeur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-06
Updated: 2005-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cridecoeur/pseuds/cridecoeur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More drabbles (ish) which were written for... honestly at this point I don't remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early in October

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look _another really pretentiously formatted fic._ I did not lie when I said I was a pretentious teenager. But at least I had a lot of fun with style! (Actually I envy my younger self's willingness to embarrass himself a few times for the sake of growth. I seem to be far less willing to take a risk, now.)

–early in October, Sirius wraps a green scarf around his pale throat swan throat though the rough wool clings to his shirt and long hair ( _like balloons cling static electric to clothes and walls and childhood_ ) and when he and Remus run across those gold and red and rustling leaves ( _whisper and crackle–a different magic here–wind, sweat, autumn_ ) Sirius spins and laughs, flapping his arms, manic teen boy, like he could fly with his bare feet still grinding down dust and dead leaves ( _and maybe, Remus thinks, he can we can when his scarf flutters and snaps against the wind)–_

_(Back on the porch, a radio crackles sssts tssst and the screen door swings shut with a broken one two rhythm.)_

–and early in October, Remus wobbles when he climbs that white pine fence so he must throw out his arms with a jerk and shudder ( _equilibrium in the slant of his slim hips, the crick-pop bend of his vertebrae_ ) so that Sirius sees only his blue shirt against the blue sky and that tartan scarf snug and silly beneath his chin and thinks _I will laugh when he falls_ and somewhere a bird sings, crisp like the taste of apples and spices and not quite November on their pink chapped lips as they smile and kiss–

_(In the kitchen, a tea kettle sighs and two cups bleed heat into the porcelain sink.)_

–and early in October, Sirius rucks up that blue sky shirt and runs his hands across Remus’ belly though Remus hisses, chants cold cold cold against his lips and squirms and twists but he settles and strokes Sirius’ knee through the hole in his jeans (where twigs and dirt catch in those white broken threads) and hooks one foot around Sirius’ skinny calf so he can not pull away ( _as if he would be anywhere but here and, _oh, now _and_ moony, please) and then they move and pant and breathe among the fallen leaves– __

_(And early in October, the brown grass and purple weeds tickle their cheeks when they lie on the ground together, young and smiling and unbroken.)_


End file.
